The trip back was easier, now that they knew the way. Saitada tried not to think about what the tunnels being empty of darkspawn meant for the surface.

At the gate of Orzammar, the guards stared with disbelief as they passed. She led them, dented and blood-stained, straight to the Diamond Quarter, and into the Assembly. The guard on the door took one look at her, and got out of their way.

The steward, Bandelor, was trying to call for order. "Lords of the Assembly, I call for order! This argument gets us nowhere!"

Bhelen's voice was belligerent. "Then why these delaying tactics? I call for a vote right now. My father has one living child to assume the Aeducan throne. Who would deny him that?" She wanted to punch that smug look right off his face.

Harrowmont's voice was angry as he glared at Bhelen. "Your father made me swear on his deathbed you would not succeed him."

The assembly began to stir again as their entrance was noted. Saitada strode to the steward's side as if she hadn't a care in the world.

Bhelen gave her a confident look. "Well, Warden? What news do you bring?"

She smiled at him, and saw his confident look falter. Then she unwrapped the crown and held it for all to see. "I bear a crown from Paragon Caridin, the last creation of the Anvil of the Void." She handed the crown to Bandelor.

He examined it, and then his eyes went wide with awe. "This crown is of Paragon make, and bears House Ortan's ancient seal. Tell us, Warden: whom did Caridin choose?"

"He left the choice to me." Her voice rang out over a hall stunned into silence.

Bandelor swallowed, then spoke in a commanding tone. "We've argued in these chambers for too long. The will of the Paragon is that the Grey Wardens decide."

She let the silence linger a moment more, let it become almost painful. Made sure they would remember. "I grant the crown to Bhelen." And with that, she humbled him with a crown.

"I... you leave me speechless. After all..." His face actually looked grateful. "I am honored that you did what is right for your house."

She smiled. Her house. Aeducan.

#

There were fewer guards this time. Rica was there, her face shining. Bhelen glanced at Saitada, then swallowed and addressed Brosca. "Kevan, now I can embrace you as a brother. And you, Saitada, you have truly surprised me, Sister. You have earned the right to rejoin House Aeducan. Without your aid, I would not have taken this throne so smoothly or so soon."

"You will be a stronger king than Harrowmont." It was best he not view sentiment in her reasoning.

"His name need not pass your lips again. My generals are already preparing for a mission to the surface. When you have need of us, you shall have every able-bodied dwarf in Orzammar. Since you did more than I expected, I offer a personal reward as well. You may recognize this. Trian used it to crack skulls when he was showing off for Father. I'm sure he'd want you to have it. Now, I have much to do. If there is nothing else..."

"I'll take that as a 'thank you'"

"As it was meant. Now, I must address my other petitioners." He hesitated. "Come back and visit sometime."

#

Cathiel glanced over at Saitada. "Your little brother is a gigantic ass."

Saitada sighed. "Next to Trian, Bhelen was a relatively small ass. It is only with Trian gone that Bhelen can truly show his ass." She sighed, and rubbed her forehead. "And I have been around you Fereldans entirely too long."

Sten shifted his sword. "I can relate."

Cathiel rolled her eyes at the Qunari. "Still, nice... er...hammer."

Saitada glanced at the maul she still carried on one shoulder. She tested its weight, and then offered it to Brehan. "Silverite and dragonbone. Better than the one you've got currently."

Brehan started. "Are you sure? I mean... It was your brother's?"

"It was meant to crack darkspawn skulls." Saitada shrugged. "You will crack darkspawn skulls with it. To all things a purpose."

Brehan took the maul, giving it an admiring heft. "And what would your brother have said, to see his maul in the hands of a Dalish?"

"If he weren't dead, this would have killed him." Saitada smiled at the maul. "Stone take you, Trian, you miserable bastard. Rest in peace."

Morrigan cocked her head to one side. "You make me grateful I have no siblings.

#

Saitada glanced back towards the assembly, and sighed. "I'll catch up with you."

Jerath frowned. "Are you sure that is wise?"

Saitada gave a half-smile. "No, but it is necessary."

Sten glanced back at the assembly, then at Saitada. "I will accompany you."

Saitada nodded, and then turned towards Cathiel. "Head over to Tapsters. Get some warm food in you. Let Brosca order the drinks."

Cathiel grinned. "Understood."

Sten followed Saitada. "You are going to see Harrowmont."

Saitada nodded. "Bhelen is the better king. Harrowmont, the better man."

"Do you intend to conscript Harrowmont?"

"If that is his wish." She sighed. She knew Bhelen would make getting rid of Harrowmont one of his first actions. She could even see his reasoning, stupid as it was. "Or just knock out the guard so he can make a run for it."

"Harrowmont could have fought in the assembly. He made a poor choice for himself."

Saitada nodded. "That is why Bhelen is king. Orzammar needs someone who can make a stand. Harrowmont couldn't. Not for me, before my exile. Not for himself, today."

"Then why are you doing this?" His face held genuine confusion.

"He failed. He didn't have it in him." She sighed. "But out of love and duty to my father, he tried. This isn't about me, Sten. Or about Orzammar. Or about Bhelen. This is about my father."

"I see... but I do not understand."

She chuckled. "That makes two of us, I suppose."

#

Saitada nodded. "I'm sorry, Lord Harrowmont."

"As am I, child. Your father missed you sorely in his final days. I am glad you found a new place among the Grey Wardens.

She didn't want to know. But she had to. "How did my father die?"

He sighed. "Of a broken heart, in my view. Some say Bhelen poisoned him, but I never left Endrin's side, and I don't see how. Bhelen did kill him, but only by what he did to you."

There was that, at least. Tiny consolation though it may have been. "Is it true my father wished you to be his heir?"

"He knew what a poor king Bhelen would make. He saw it sooner than the rest of us. One of his last requests was that I carry out his wishes as Orzammar's next king. It was the greatest honor of my life. Saitada, you know what your brother is. Why?"

"Because I know what my brother is. Cunning. Strong. Ruthless. And willing to be a force of change. Because whatever else my brother is, he is right. Orzammar must change if it is to survive. Because Orzammar must find a place for everyone. And because... he is my brother."

Harrowmont sighed. "That part, at least, I understand. With all you forgave Trian... I shouldn't be surprised you'd forgive Bhelen."

She shook her head. "I haven't forgiven Bhelen. I never will. But that changes nothing. Lord Harrowmont... say the word, and I will use the rite of conscription. You do not have to die here."

Harrowmont shook his head. "The king has spoken. All I can do is die with dignity."

"May the stone accept you when you fall, Lord Harrowmont."

#

Cathiel rolled her eyes fondly as she watched Brehen coming up with elvish translations for all of Brosca's curses. Alistair was actually making notes. Brosca shook his head. "Ya mean to tell me after thousands of years of civilization, your people never came up with a word for asschaps?"

"I'm not entirely certain what asschaps are..." Brehan held up a hand to forestall them. "Nor do I wish to be."

Leliana giggled, and provided them with a suitable word in Orlesian.

At another table, Lenore was carefully fitting Shale with blue-tinged crystals, much to the golem's evident delight. "I think these may also serve to make you somewhat more dexterous. Not that I think you should go dwarf juggling or anything."

"What about elves? Can I juggle those?"

"Ours have lots of pointy bits. Okay, what about these? Red or green?"

"Which do you think better complements the blue?"

"The red is certainly more dramatic, and where the two overlap it will create a nice band of royal purple. And the red seems to correspond with fire. I think it will provide you with considerable resistance, so I don't accidentally singe you again."

"What does the elder mage think?" Shale asked Wynne.

"Shale, why do you refer to me as the 'elder mage?'"

"Clearly because it is purple. And a hyena."

Wynne gave a long suffering sigh. "I have a name. We all do. Even though Morrigan is a 'swamp witch', as you call her, maybe she'd prefer being referred to by her name."

"I have no doubt that is so."

"Then you simply wish to be perverse? Surely you are better than that."

"I have found that I am allowed precious few amusements. Since so many prefer to call me 'golem,' I enjoy referring to them in a similar fashion."

"Oh, very well. But could you at least use a different adjective? I do not wish my age to be my defining characteristic."

"As the fussy mage desires."

"Oh, I give up."

#

"Kadan..."

Saitada sighed. "Lord Harrowmont still has much to offer, but neither he nor Bhelen can see that, and so they waste him." Sten glanced down at her, and she gave him a sad smile. "There is wisdom in your Qun, just as there is in the Chantry, and in the Shaperate. Knowledge of the complex is wisdom, and from wisdom of the world comes wisdom of the self."

Sten nodded. "Mastery of the self is mastery of the world. Loss of the self is the source of suffering."

"Love is giving up a piece of the self. I didn't listen when Bhelen first started his plotting, and for that, Trian died. But for all their faults, I loved my brothers. Suffering is a choice, and we can refuse it. It is in our power to create the world, or destroy it. Let us hope what I have done here today is not the latter. Bhelen is king. Orzammar will endure"

"And you, Kadan?"

"I am content to be who I am. Come, Sten. We have an army to finish building."

#

Oghren stopped just before the stairs, and took a deep breath. "Give me a moment."

Saitada remembered the first time she'd seen sky. "Take your time."

"By the Stone, I feel like I'm about to fall off the world with all that sky up there."

"I remember that feeling. It passes," Saitada said.

"This one cheeky young jackass told me putting stones in my pockets would keep that from happening," Brosca said, elbowing Alistair.

"Worked, didn't it?" Alistair said.

"Too bad. It's kind of like being drunk. But so much cheaper!" Oghren started forward again. "Well, let's get moving. We're losing... whatchacallit? Daylight."

#

Lenore was a little surprised to note that Jerath and Morrigan appeared to still be sharing a tent. After he'd all but threatened her back at the Anvil... She shrugged. They must have worked it out. Then again, Morrigan actually seemed to find Jerath's scariness attractive, so maybe... Nope, not going down that road.

She watched Brehan spar Sten, then her eyes widened as Brehan managed to best the qunari. He's certainly come a long way from the days when Duncan had rather casually smacked him around. Had he really taken on an ogre back in Bownammar? She sighed. She wanted to put all the events of the deep roads behind her.

Zevran came to sit next to her, and she smiled. "How well-versed are you in poetry?" Antivan poetry specifically?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I know a good poem when I hear it."

He laughed. "Well, trust me, then, you won't be hearing it now." He kissed her hand. "It was recited to me, as I recall, by a rather wealthy target of mine. Let's see... 'The symphony I see in thee / it whispers songs to me / songs of hot breath upon my neck / songs of soft sighs by my head / songs of nails upon my back / songs of thee come to my bed."

She giggled. "This was told to you by a target?"

"Oh, I know, I know. I couldn't believe that she thought this would actually convince me to spare her." He shrugged. "I had sex with her anyway, but that goes without saying. She still had to die. The poem was amusing at the time, however, and thus I've always remembered it."

"Are you trying to seduce me with it?"

He ran a finger down her cheek. "Now that is a thought, isn't it? Would it work?"

She considered a moment, tapping her chin with one finger. "It... might."

"I'll have to keep that in mind. Personally, my preferred methods of seduction are a bit more... tactile. Here I thought you might be cheered up by some naughty poetry. You simply looked... unhappy, for a moment there. Such an unflattering expression for such a lovely face."

"I was thinking..." She glanced over at the combatants again. Jerath was demonstrating a maneuver to Alistair. Alistair twisted, and Jerath went over his shoulder to land on the ground. Alistair's eyes widened, and he laughed gleefully before offering the other man a hand up. "We've walked a long road, and we are not yet to the end. These are not the best of times."

"Yes, I know." He sighed. "They never are, you see. Fortunately I tend to make do with whatever time I have. It's served me well, most days. You might learn to do the same."

"Will you tell me about that last mission now?"

He sighed. "Yes, I suppose it is time. You have been a good friend to me, after all. There is no reason to be silent. There is a reason I accepted this mission in Ferelden, far away from home, and it had nothing to do with any thought that I might leave the Crows. Meeting you, after all, was quite an accident." His face became grim. "My last mission before this one... did not end well."

"What happened?"

"You must realize that until that day I was cocky and arrogant. I was the best Crow in Antiva, I believed, and I bragged of my conquests often... both as an assassin and lover."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "You were more cocky and arrogant?"

He gave a small laugh. "Indeed. I was often told I was insufferable... right before I ended up in bed with someone. Such is how it was. One of the Crow masters grew tired of my boasting. My bid for an incredibly difficult mark was accepted, much to my surprise: A wealthy merchant with many guards and completely silent. Taliesen agreed to be part of my team, as well as an elven lass named Rinna. She was... a marvel. Tough, smooth, wicked. Eyes that gleamed like justice. Everything I thought I desired."

She put her arm around him, and he rested his head on her bosom for a moment. "And you fell in love."

"Rinna was special. I had closed off my heart, I thought, but she touched something within me. It frightened me. When Taliesen revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from a merchant, told him of our plan, I readily agreed that she needed to pay the price and allowed Taliesen to kill her." He sighed into her shoulder. "Rinna begged me not to. On her knees, with tears in her eyes, she told me that she loved me and had not betrayed us. I laughed in her face and said that even if it were true, I didn't care."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "But that wasn't true."

"I convinced myself it was." He withdrew, and met her eyes. "Taliesen cut her throat and I watched her bleed as she stared up at me. I spat on her for betraying the Crows. When Taliesen and I finally assassinated the merchant we found the true source of his information. Rinna had not betrayed us after all."

"I'm so sorry."

"I... wanted to tell the Crows what we had done, our mistake. Taliesen convinced me not to. He said it would be a foolish wasted. So we reported that Rinna had died in the attempt." He shrugged. "We needn't have bothered. The Crows knew what we had done. The master who disliked me told me so to my face. He said that the Crows knew... and they didn't care. And one day my turn would come."

She felt the urge to fireball someone in the face returning. "Why would he do that?"

"To rub it in my face, perhaps. That I was nothing. That she was nothing." He sighed, and then kissed her before continuing. "You once asked why I wanted to leave the Crows. In truth, what I wanted was to die. What better way than to throw myself at a group of the fabled Grey Wardens?" He caressed her cheek. "And then... this happened. And here I am."

"Do you still want to die?"

He shook his head. "No. What I want is to begin again." His eyes grew warm. "Whatever it is I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it. I owe you a great deal."

"I'm glad to have you with me."

He sighed, and then looked around the camp. "Where is our Brosca?"

"He was sitting next to me until just a few minutes before you came over. He said something about wanting a bath."

"Oh. Perhaps we should go render him our assistance?"

"Now that sounds like a brilliant idea."

#

Cathiel grinned as Wynne walked over to where she was sitting with Alistair. Alistair immediately stood to make a fold his cloak and make a comfortable seat for Wynne, who smiled at him fondly. She sat down. "Have you heard much about the Grey Wardens of old?"

She smiled dreamily, snuggling into Alistair as he sat back down next to her. "I know they soared through the skies on griffons."

Wynne shook her head and laughed. "Griffons! Alas, that seems to be the only thing people remember from the tales - the mighty flying mounts that bore the Grey Wardens into battle."

"Well, I wish I had a griffon."

"Unfortunately, they've all passed back into the Maker's hand, so that wish will have to go unfulfilled."

She sighed. "I suppose I have to make do with Alistair."

Alistair laughed. "I now have a mental image of charging into battle with you sitting on my shoulders, shooting at everything."

"Are we actually sure Jerath is the youngest of this particular group?" Wynne asked. She shook her head, and smiled. "It was said that watching the Wardens ride in on their white..."

"Gray."

"What?"

"Griffons were gray. I think that might be why they ended up calling us Grey Wardens."

"Gray griffons was enough to rouse a weary heart, and put the dance back in the step of an old man." Wynne leaned back, settling herself. "The Grey Wardens were powerful - feared and respected - but they also inspired the common people. I remember a tale that was told to me, many years ago..."

"Does the story have griffons in it?"

"Maker's mercy. It's like talking to a child!"

Cathiel turned up her nose and grinned. "If it doesn't have griffons in it, I don't want to hear it."

Wynne made a gesture that suggested she wanted to strangle something. "Yes... there are griffons in this story." She took a breath. "The Blight had ravaged the land for months, and the armies of the great kings had amassed for one last stand. As the sun burst through the clouds that boiled and churned in the dark sky above, it illuminated a vast seething horde of darkspawn, with the archdemon at its head. And it was then- when courage seemed to fail, and all lost to death and despair - that the Grey Wardens came. They arrived with the beating of wings like mighty war drums, and stood before the armies of men."

"Griffons?" Cathiel asked.

"Yes... griffons. Now listen to the rest of the story." She nodded as Alistair put a hand over Cathiel's mouth. "The Grey Wardens, grim and fearless, marched forth, ever between the men and the encroaching darkspawn. They formed a shield of their own bodies and held that line until the archdemon was dead and the last darkspawn lay trampled in the dirt." Her voice grew quiet. "And then, demanding neither reward nor recognition for their sacrifice, the Grey Wardens departed. When the clouds finally rolled back and the sun shone full upon the blighted ground, the great kings knew that they had lost no men, and none of their blood had been spilled."

Cathiel bit Alistair's hand and he pulled it away and gave her a wounded look. "I like happy endings," she said.

"This is a tale about no battle the Grey Wardens have fought, and yet about them all. They have always defended us from the darkspawn, taking losses so that we do not have to. People may have forgotten over the centuries, but nothing has changed. This knowledge has been blessing and burden to Grey Wardens past, and now, it shall be your blessing, and your burden."

Cathiel glanced up at Alistair. "You know, if you do end up having to be king, you could do far worse than to recruit Wynne as your court mage."

"I... I could do that, couldn't I?" he asked. He looked at Wynne. "I mean, would you?"

She smiled. "Of course."

"That's... yeah, I think I'd like that. Assuming I don't find some way to get out of this." He frowned. "Didn't I hear you telling Jerath that story earlier?"

Wynne sighed. "Frankly, his comments about the poor tactical choices of the battle were considerably more irritating than Cathiel's griffon obsession."

#

Saitada finished filling Eamon in on the events of Orzammar, and left him to go check on the others. Leliana and Brehan were in the library, going over a map of the Brecilian forest as Brehan marked places they were most likely to find a caravan. She left him to it.

Jerath she found at the weapon range. He was attempting to teach Morrigan how to use a sword. A noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle escaped the swamp witch as he moved her through a drill. She left them to it. The door to the room Lenore, Zevran, and Brosca were sharing was closed. The archdemon itself wouldn't get her to open it.

Alistair and Cathiel, she knew, were staying clear of the castle. Alistair seemed possessed of the notion that ignoring the king situation would make it go away. Cathiel, especially since Orzammar, was enabling his endeavor.

She found Oghren on the wall. "Come to talk to ol'Oghren, have you? Don't know why."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I just... I guess we're pretty good friends now, right?" She wasn't sure she'd go that far, but she nodded to him anyway. "I just... I keep thinking about all that slag with Branka, how I've turned out. I always said I was this way because she left, but I think maybe... she left because of how I am."

"She underestimated you." And she was obsessed and unstable, and made her hope that one of Bhelen's first acts was to revamp the assembly's method of decided paragonhood.

"No, she just... estimated me. She knew how I was, and because of that, she left without me." He shrugged. "Worked out in my favor, though. I'm here fighting the good fight and not fed to Caridin's traps or her pet darkspawn. Did you want to talk about something?"

"What do you think of the surface so far?"

"It's sodding great. At first I was a little queasy, with all that air, but... there's just so much of it! No one has any idea who you are. Or what you're doing. And the ale! Who'd have thought, ale made with grain!" He shrugged. "Aye, the surface is fine. It's not quite Orzammar, but it's fine." He sighed. "And you got me all misty again. I'll just be over there, if you need something killed."